


The Space in Between

by thatcrazyhippie



Series: The Agent and His Analyst [3]
Category: NCIS: Los Angeles
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut, Humor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:41:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24200770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatcrazyhippie/pseuds/thatcrazyhippie
Summary: A collection of snapshots of the moments in Callen and Nell's relationship. Pre-established nallen but I will specify if it is before they get together. Mostly fluff, with appropriate appearances of smut and angst.
Relationships: G Callen/Nell Jones
Series: The Agent and His Analyst [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1173644
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	1. Short

Nell Jones is short.

Not an inch over five feet and it is so amusingly adorable to Callen because when he kisses her - which is often, when they're alone - she tilts up on the very tips of her toes like a ballerina, steadies herself with small hands on his broad shoulders, and grins at her accomplishment. Like, she's doing now. She's not even at eye level with him; she's looking at his nose, actually, but she doesn't care.

"Y'know," hooded blue eyes stare down at the petite red-head. "I kind of like that you're not tall."

"Why?" Nell's face scrunches up in what she feels is righteous confusion. Because, she'd love to be tall like Kensi, to have never ending legs, and a body that was the cause of every guy's wet dream.

"Because," he bends her backwards slightly, arms wrapped tight around her, forcing her to lower herself back down. "You fit."

He kisses her.

It's slow and deep and warm and she presses closer, fisting his shirt in her hands. And, all fantasies of being some tall statuesque agent like Kensi fly out of the window. As long as she fits with him, that's all that matters. 


	2. Lost

"- Well, if you'd just ask for damn directions!" his mercedes passes the same sign for the sixth time and his hands tighten on the steering wheel.

"I don't need directions, Jones!" Callen finally settles on the only retort he can think of; even if it is petulant as hell.

"Oh? Then why aren't we there?" it's all knives and fire; sharp and hot and plunging straight in the gut. "If you'd call Sam and ask, we'd get there instead of passing the same pine tree for the sixth time!"

Callen growls.

Nell adjusts her sunglasses, tightens her ponytail, and digs the heels of her boots into the mats. If only to keep from putting them where she'd really like to; up Callen's stubborn ass.

Five minutes pass.

"Nell?"

"What?"

"Call Sam." 


End file.
